I madescrambled eggs and toast while Jace sat at his kitchen counter in sweatpants and one of my t-shirts, scrolling through his phone. The domesticity of it hit me sideways—this was what normal couples did. They had sex and took showers and made breakfast together on a weekday morning.
Except we weren't normal, and this couldn't last.
I shoved that thought down and plated the eggs.
“This looks good,” Jace said, digging in immediately. He took another bite, then looked at me. “What's your plan today?”
“Film review. Practice planning. The usual.” I poured coffee for both of us. “You?”
“Physical therapy. Maybe actually respond to my agent's seventeen messages.” He made a face. “He wants to talk about endorsement deals. Apparently brands are interested in the 'brave gay athlete' angle.”
“Are you interested?”
“I don't know. Maybe? It feels weird to capitalize on it.” He paused. “But also, if I'm going to be out, I might as well use it for something good. Visibility matters, right?”
“It does.” I sat down across from him. “Just make sure you're doing it because you want to, not because you feel obligated.”
“I know.” He reached across the table and laced his fingers with mine.
My phone rang before I could say anything else. Cal's name lit up the screen, and I frowned. Cal didn't call this early unless something was wrong.
“I need to take this,” I said, already answering. “Cal?”
“Grant.” His voice was tight. “Where are you?”
“Why? What's wrong?”
“There's media at Mom's house.” I heard him take a breath. “Like, a lot of media. Vans. Cameras. They're camped outside asking her questions about you and Jace.”
My stomach dropped. “Fuck. When did this start?”
“About an hour ago. Neighbor called me when the first van showed up. I'm on my way there now, but Grant, she's freaking out. She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what you want her to say, and she's getting harassed on her own front lawn.”
Guilt and rage warred in my chest. I'd been so focused on protecting Jace's family that I'd forgotten mine could be just as vulnerable. “Tell her not to say anything. Don't open the door. Don't engage. I'm coming.”
“You're in Ontario.”
“I'll figure it out. Just—stay with her. Don't let them corner her.”
“I will.” He paused. “Grant, how did they even find her?”
“Someone dug. Or they tracked my car. Or a thousand other ways the media gets information.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I'll be there as soon as I can. And Cal? Thank you.”
“Yeah. Just get here.”
I hung up and looked at Jace, who was watching me with concern. “Your mom?”
“Media showed up at her house in Alberta. They're harassing her.” I was already moving, grabbing my jacket, my keys. “I need to go. I need to get there before this gets worse.”
“I'm coming with you.”
I stopped. “Jace?—”
“Don't.” He stood up, already heading toward his bedroom. “Don't tell me to stay here. Your mom is dealing with this because of us. Because of me. I'm not letting you handle it alone.”
“You have physical therapy.”
“I'll reschedule.” He was pulling on jeans now, moving fast despite the shoulder. “Grant, I'm coming. Don't argue.”
